


Lizzington One-Shots

by jadenanne7



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lizzington Forever, One Shot Collection, ratings vary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:16:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadenanne7/pseuds/jadenanne7
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.





	1. Age of Ultron

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Lizzie asks Red to go see a movie with her, because one of the characters sounds like him.

Liz walked out of the movie theater in a daze. The first movie she had been to see in over two years, and THIS is what happens?

The movie itself was spectacular. Comics had never really been Liz's thing, but she had seen the first Avengers movie at Tom's insistence, and she was on the edge of her seat the entire time. So… when she happened to catch the tail end of the trailer for The Avengers: Age of Ultron, she made herself a promise that she would take the time to go see it, no matter what other things she had going on.

It did not disappoint.

The action was unbelievable, as she knew it would be. The moments of comedy were thrown in at all the right places, and there was even a bit of romance between two characters that she NEVER thought would be interested in each other. And then there was…Ultron. Ultron gave the movie something extra special. He was intriguing…maniacal…seductive…

Liz shook her head as she lumbered through the parking lot and found her car. She found the robot sexy. It was a sad situation, really. Some of the sexiest men in Hollywood strutting their stuff on the screen, and she was drooling over the robot. But what was REALLY getting to her was the reason she found him sexy. His voice was hypnotic, almost. Mechanical and sensual at the same time. He sounded like heaven.

He sounded like Red.

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

"You want me to go see a movie?"

Red's voice practically dripped with disbelief, and Liz could hardly believe it herself. There was a soft tapping over the phone and she wondered if he was tapping his hand on the table, a nervous habit she had tried not to notice. Was she making him nervous?

"Yes. Actually, I want you to go see a movie with me. Like…the two of us would go together." Every bit of the air in Liz's body seemed to escape at that very moment, severely impacting her ability to breathe. Should she have waited until The Avengers came out on DVD?

"Like a date? How forward of you, Lizzie. I'm pleasantly surprised."

Shit.

"It is NOT a date, Reddington," Liz insisted, flustered at his brazen flirtation. "We'll go dutch. I just want you to see this movie with me. There's this character…. You'll see. Just come with me."

"Fine. It's not a date. Not that I would take you to the movies on a date anyways. I like to think of myself as much more sophisticated than that."

Liz grinned. "You're really not."

"You're right. I'm not. I would totally take you to the movies. A dark theater…in the back row… I doubt I could tell you what the movie was about afterwards." There was a short pause as Liz tried to expel the image of the two of them in a movie theater dalliance out of her mind. It wasn't easy. "You know, Lizzie, I haven't been to a movie in years."

"You know what? I haven't either," Liz sighed. "Not since before…"

" _Not since before you"_ hung in the air, but they both let it slide. For once Liz was in no mood to bring it up.

"So what time do you want me to pick you up for our non-date?"

Liz raised a brow in surprise. "Are you actually going to drive? CAN you drive?"

"I take offense to that," Red huffed over the phone. "Yes, I can drive. Dembe can have the night off. He deserves one."

"Yes, he does," Liz agreed. "And so do we."

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Ironically, Red and Liz ended up on the back row of the crowded theater, barely able to find seats among the throngs of people waiting to see Age of Ultron. Red had insisted on paying, of course, and had also insisted on drinks and popcorn. "I haven't had soda in ages," he remarked when Liz pulled a surprised face at his choice of beverages. Liz had balked at getting a bag of popcorn for herself, knowing she would never be able to eat it all, so Red had purchased a bag big enough for the both of them.

If the people at work could see them now, sharing popcorn in a dark, crowded theater…

"Who is this character I'm supposed to be watching out for?"

Red's warm breath on her ear sent chills down Liz's spine.

"You'll know him when you see him. Or when you hear him," Liz whispered back, not daring to turn her head. "Just hush and watch. The movie is about to start."

"It's just previews, Lizzie. Nobody cares about the previews."

Red leaned back into his seat and snacked on a handful of popcorn, tilting the bag in her direction so that she could get a handful as well.

"I care about the previews," Liz hissed, thoughtlessly grabbing popcorn out of the bag and spilling it all over her jeans. "I may want to actually come back to see another movie…get some normalcy back into my life."

"Humph… normalcy," Red muttered as he brushed away the stray popcorn that had landed on his lap. "Normal is boring. Normal is for other people. Now coming to a movie theater with ME? That's not normal and it's certainly not boring."

"If I agree will you shut up? The movie is starting."

The conversation ground to a halt as the lights dimmed even lower and the movie started. Even though she had just watched it the night before, Liz found herself entranced all over again, lost in the world of The Avengers. She was so caught up in the story that she barely noticed herself slouching down in her seat, her shoulders sliding against Red's, her legs comfortably resting against his as their fingers brushed in the shared bag of popcorn…. She did, however, notice when an eerily familiar voice filled the theater.

" _What is this place?"_

"Holy…Lizzie, what the hell?" Red tensed against her, ignoring the murderous glances he was receiving from several Avengers fans trying to watch the movie. "You should have warned me!"

"Shhhh!" Liz shushed. "How in the world was I supposed to do that? It's one of those things you don't believe until you hear it. Besides… it's a lot more fun this way." Her lips brushed his ear unintentionally and she smiled to herself when she felt his muscles flex as he gripped the armrest for dear life.

"More fun for you, maybe." Red relaxed back into his chair, but his face remained tense as he watched the screen and listened to his voice come out of a huge, strangely lifelike robot. The more the thing talked, the more tense Red became, until finally Liz took pity on him and placed her hand over his, squeezing when Ultron started to speak. It seemed to calm him down, though it certainly didn't calm HER down. Armed with the knowledge that, somehow, that voice did not actually belong to the man who had charged into her life and wrecked it, Liz was finally able to let go and admit it…that voice did things to her.

Naughty things.

She wanted that voice whispering to her in the dead of night, erasing all memories of the higher, lying voice that had so often put her to sleep. She wanted that voice on the other end of her phone, asking her what she was wearing and telling her to take it off. She wanted that voice… period.

"Ouch!"

Liz was pulled from her erotic little fantasies by Red shaking her hand from his.

"If this is scary for you then I am never taking you to see a real scary movie," he groaned, shaking his hand and grimacing in pain. "You'll break my hand!"

"I'm so sorry!" Liz whispered, embarrassed at forgetting herself like that. "Here…give it back." She coaxed his hand back into hers and rubbed it soothingly. "It's almost over." Turning her attention back to the movie, she continued to rub the back of his hand distractedly. It was either that or let her hands do what they REALLY wanted to do…

And that was not appropriate in a movie theater.

It really wasn't her fault. She couldn't be held responsible for the embarrassing lack of self control that voice prompted. It was calling to her…beckoning… _"Lizzie…Lizzie…"_

"Lizzie?"

Liz let out a little shriek as she realized that one of the owners of that voice was trying to get her attention.

"Lizzie…" Red regarded her quizzically, taking in her flushed skin and nervous demeanor, concern etched across his face until he realized what ailed her. A slow grin spread across his face, and he leaned in to make sure his inquiry remained private. "Is this turning you on?"

Unable to speak, Liz nodded.

"Ultron's voice?"

Liz nodded again.

"MY voice?"

Liz hesitated before nodding again, knowing she had been caught out anyway.

"Lizzie?"

Red's hot breath against Liz's ear would most absolutely be her undoing. He took her hand and rubbed it suggestively, mirroring her earlier actions.

"If you let me take you home…I'll let you call me Ultron."

She didn't even stop to think twice.

"Deal."


	2. No title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Red refuses to leave the makeshift hospital for a safer place without Lizzie and the Fulcrum.

When the infernal ringing in his ears finally subsided, Raymond Reddington dared to open his eyes and find out what sub-par hospital Lizzie had undoubtedly insisted he be dragged to. He was pleasantly surprised to find a makeshift hospital room in some sort of underground bunker.

She was learning.

Itching in his arm alerted him that some sort of thick, clear liquid was being forced into his body, and he pulled a face. Morphine. Morphine to knock him out…to make him vulnerable…susceptible to an attack he wouldn't even feel. In an uncharacteristic show of panic, Red ripped the IV out of his arm and started to tug away the various wires that seemed to be connected to every body part. The alarms didn't even register in his brain until the door swung open and the room flooded with people.

"Mr. Reddington, you must stop that!"

"Please don't do that, Dear; you're going to be in a lot of pain if you don't let me put this IV back in."

"Mr. Reddington, if you don't calm down we're going to have to strap you to the bed!"

"The hell you are!"

Lizzie's stern voice hit Red like a lightning bolt and he flushed, embarrassed at the scene he was making. Settling back onto the pillows, he tried not to grunt at the sudden sharp pain in his chest.

"Where am I?" Red wracked his brain for memories of the day before, but found that things went blurry after…after Lizzie told him to go.

Why couldn't he have forgotten that, too?

Lizzie approached the bed hesitantly, cutting her eyes at the barrage of doctors and nurses that hung awkwardly back, not wanting to get caught up in whatever was about to happen. "You. Nancy." She addressed the nurse that had tried desperately to get the IV full of pain medication back into Red's arm. "Stay, please. Everyone else can go."

Red watched, thoroughly impressed when the room cleared at her command.

"Red," Lizzie cooed soothingly, immediately drawing Red's suspicion, "please lie back and let this nice lady get you hooked back up." There was a slight pressure on Red's shoulder as Lizzie pushed him gently back onto the pillows.

"No." Stubbornness was usually Lizzie's forte, but Red thought he'd give it a whirl. "Not until you tell me where we are."

Lizzie sighed. "Really? That's what you're worried about? In about a minute you're going to be in so much pain you'll be begging me to knock you out, and you're worried about where you are?"

"Yes."

"You're in an underground safe house."

Lizzie glanced nervously at his door, and a slow understanding crept up on Red, causing his fingers to dig into the sheets.

"Who does it belong to? It's certainly not mine. Too primitive."

Lizzie blushed faintly. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters a great deal. Who does this place belong to?"

The soft, pleading look in Lizzie's eyes gave her away. "He was only trying to help…"

"Damn it, Lizzie." Red fumbled for the sheets and threw them back from his legs, pretending not to notice when Lizzie eyed his scarred legs curiously. "We have to get out of here." A loud banging noise stopped him in his tracks.

"Raymond, I know the circumstances aren't ideal, but this is no time to complain about them. Get back in bed." Dembe closed the door behind him as he entered, giving Lizzie a nod.

Red planted his feet defiantly on the floor, wincing as a stitch pulled. "I'm not staying here. Take me to my apartment. It's safer and it doesn't smell like Lysol and vomit."

"Talk some sense into him, Dembe," Lizzie begged, sliding an arm around Red's waist, though he showed no signs of stumbling.

Dembe shook his head. "I'm sorry, Liz," he said apologetically. "He's right. I do not trust Tom Keen, and you shouldn't either. Raymond needs to be moved."

"We all need to be moved." Red leaned into Lizzie's arms, feigning exhaustion. "All of us. Me, you, Lizzie, and the Fulcrum. It'll be a disaster if we stay." His voice caught at the end, and suddenly he was truly tired…and truly in pain.

"It's too dangerous to move you," Lizzie protested, tightening her grip around his waist in emphasis.

"Lizzie," Red wheezed, allowing her to settle him back on the bed. "You have two options. You come with me to my home until I'm recuperated enough to get things back on track, or…I have Tom shot in the head and we stay in this nice little hidey hole. Your call."

Lizzie's mouth opened and closed several times; looking so much like a fish Red would have laughed if he wasn't in so much pain.

The things he did to get his way.

"Fine," Lizzie relented after several never-ending moments. Red sighed in relief, leaning back onto the blessed pillows. "But this thing with Tom is over. We leave him alone and he leaves us alone."

"Deal. We leave as soon as Mr. Kaplan returns."

Red closed his eyes and stretched out his arm, alarmed when he heard the shuffling of feet that told him the room was clearing out.

"Wait!" he yelled, and she shuffling stopped.

"What's wrong?" Lizzie returned to his side and crossed her arms.

"Morphine. Give me my damn morphine!"


	3. One of the Many Times Red Kills Tom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Red kills everyone involved with the assassination attempt (which of course translated to me as "Red kills Tom") Warning… got a little silly with this one at the end. Couldn't help myself

Elizabeth Keen awoke to fingers roughly gripping her shoulders.

"Liz. Wake up. Wake the fuck up!"

Panic overtook her as she tried to scream but couldn't; a hand pressed to her mouth assured her silence.

"It's only me! Calm down…it's only me."

Allowing herself to breathe and focus on the person holding her down, Liz narrowed her eyes and bit down on the hand across her mouth.

"Ouch! Stop! It's just me!"

"Somehow I don't find that reassuring." Liz rose quickly from the bed and grabbed her gun, pointing it in the general direction of the intruder's head. "What do you want, Tom?"

Tom sank down on the edge of the bed, ignoring the threat of gunfire. "I need your help. I need you to talk to Reddington."

Liz was honestly surprised this visit hadn't happened sooner. "No."

"Liz! He's GOING to kill me! Every single solitary member of The Alliance is dead. He's out of his fucking mind." Tom ran his hands over his shaved head and Liz couldn't help but think that Red wore that look soooo much better.

"No… he's just very vengeful. Has a lot of pent up anger. And YOU lead The Alliance to him. And if you think I can protect you… you've misjudged the situation terribly." Liz lowered her gun and walked out of her bedroom door and down the stairs of the apartment she had finally accepted from Red. "Show yourself out," she called up behind her.

The stairs thundered behind her as Tom followed. "That's it? That's all you've got for me? Liz… I was your husband!"

"No, you were MY contact. And a pretty lousy one at that." Raymond Reddington stood in the doorway of the spare room he had taken to sleeping in since the shot to his chest.

Tom froze, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of Red's grin over the barrel of his gun. "You don't understand…"

"That's not true. I just don't care."

And Red pulled the trigger.

"RED!" Liz stood in shock over the body of her fake ex-husband.

"What?"

Liz pouted. "You were supposed to let ME do it."

Kicking Tom's leg out of his way, Red came to stand by Liz. "I know. I just didn't want a repeat of the last time. You're all out of dark holes to stick him in. Well… except for the one Mr. Kaplan is digging in the woods."


	4. Florida

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Where does Red take Lizzie when they leave together? (Some exotic location? Scary cabin in the woods? Ressler's closet?)

Liz never failed to be surprised by Raymond Reddington.

During the long ride in the backseat of one of Red's cars, Liz prepped herself for air travel. It always made her slightly queasy, the trembling and shaking of the plane as it left the ground, and downright nauseated when it started doing the same mid-air. Not a pleasant experience. She considered asking to stop for some Dramamine, but Red had failed to move or speak since she laid her head on his shoulder, so she figured it wise to keep her mouth shut and continue to pretend to sleep.

The stop at a hotel wasn't really a surprise…Liz figured they would be taking off from some remote location far away from Baltimore. The north wasn't safe for them anymore, so it made sense that they were heading south.

She just didn't expect them to head all the way to Florida.

White sand crunched beneath her sneakers as she took in the sight of the modest beach house, hidden from view by enormous rocks that looked like they were strategically placed for that purpose.

"Here?" Liz tried to keep the disbelief from dripping from her voice, but failed miserably.

Red straightened his hat. "Here."

Gripping the bag that had been specially put together for her (she didn't want to know how long this bag had been packed for this particular scenario), she made her way through the front door of the house, taking in her new surroundings. It was small…the kitchen and living room were combined comfortably into one space, and there was a door leading to what Liz assumed was a bedroom. A set of stairs caught her eye, but she wasn't ready to tackle those just yet.

"Quaint, isn't it?" Red materialized beside her, taking in the house as well. "Not exactly my usual fare, but this is an unusual situation, so it'll do."

"We lived in a beach house once, Sam and I. When I was about eight years old, for six months. We moved around a lot, but I guess you already knew that." It wasn't an accusation, not anymore. After the lengths he had gone through to keep her conscience clean and her soul pure, how could she fault him for looking in on her? "Is it yours?"

Red smiled slightly, studying her now as he had refused to do for the past two days. "Borrowed. It's safer this way."

Nodding, Liz dropped her eyes down to the hardwood floors. She really wished he would have waited until she showered to give her so much attention. "So why are we here? I thought we'd be well out of the country by now." She flopped casually on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her.

"They'll be watching the skies for months, Lizzie. Let's give them some time to get themselves good and confused and scouting for caves in Pakistan." Red grinned and took the seat beside Liz. The grace in his movements brought her to shame and she untucked her feet and planted them firmly on the floor.

"But you smuggle people out of the country all the time… gone in thirty seconds."

" _I offer that particular package to clients…"_

Red nodded. "I do. And I can. But I won't."

He was truly infuriating.

Despite every atom of her being screaming for her to leave it alone, that she had had enough revelations in two days to last her a lifetime, Liz shrugged. "Why?"

There was a gentle weight on her thigh and her hand curled around his instinctively. "Because my clients must be willing to risk everything to reach their destination, and I'm not," Red said gruffly, squeezing her fingers between his. "I can't afford to be brave right now. Not if you're the cost."

There was no way to reply correctly to that…no way to convey the way that made her feel, so Liz went with the first nonsensical thing that popped out of her mouth.

"So… Florida?"

Red grinned. "Florida."


	5. Foolish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Foolish
> 
> Original Sentence: It was foolish to think it wouldn't come to this…him backed against the wall, trembling as she strokes him to a staggering completion…not wanting it to happen quite this way…feeling the great heaviness of the lack of intimacy in such an intimate act; but he gives her anything she wants without complaint or reproach, going to far as to hide the tears as she simply zips him back up and walks away.

She is angry with him.

It is nothing new, and certainly nothing unexpected. She is always angry nowadays, and has made it very clear that there is nothing he can do to fix it…to fix her.

Lizzie has always done a very good job of convincing herself that she is broken.

He follows her to the apartment she has begrudgingly accepted, feeling himself shrink smaller and smaller under the weight of her silent treatment. It has been days since she has lowered herself to speak to him.

Red much prefers screaming and maybe even a little profanity. How can he know where he stands if she doesn't tell him?

From the sidewalk to the longest elevator ride in existence, Lizzie refuses to acknowledge his presence. It is impressive if not painful. Her face reddens as they exit the elevator and enter the hall. Perhaps he is stepping over a line…invading her private sanctuary.

Too late to turn back now.

"What do you want?!"

She turns on her heels in the hall, facing him with a fury that makes him take a step back.

He has pushed her too far.

Finally.

"She speaks! And here I thought we were playing an epic round of the silent game. You lose."

She shakes her head in disappointment and he flushes, embarrassed at his own inability to answer the simplest question.

"I'm serious," she says, taking a deep breath…something Red truly wishes he could do. "I don't know what you want from me. You aren't my father, you aren't my friend…."

"I'm whatever you want me to be."

And there it is… the first lie.

If she asks him to be her friend he'll die.

If she asks him to be her father he'll kill himself.

"You're whatever I want you to be?" Her voice is deceptively small, but there is something else bubbling under the surface, something that tells him to get out while he still can.

He cannot will his feet to move.

Lizzie is waiting for an answer…always waiting for an answer.

All he can give her is a slow nod.

She nods as well, bringing the arms that have been tightly folded over her chest down to hang by her sides.

"And what about what I need you to be?"

Danger.

The warning signs are everywhere, flashing in Lizzie's eyes and tugging at the frayed edges of his conscience.

True to form, Red ignores them.

He doesn't nod. He doesn't need to.

Lizzie is growing bold in her fury, closing the gap between them in slow intervals, a predator toying with her prey.

It is almost sexual.

'Almost' is enough to make him hard.

"You and I both know that you aren't my friend," Lizzie purrs, taking another slow step.

He wants to protest, but it would be another lie.

He has never been her friend.

Never wanted to be.

She takes another step and they are a breath away from touching.

"But what about something more? Something a little more involved?" Closing the distance between them, Lizzie reaches up to straighten his tie, though he is sure it is already straight. She leans closer, running her fingers down the tie as she lays her head on his chest. His arms itch to go around her, but somehow he knows that is not what she wants. She sighs, content.

He cannot breathe.

"You would do anything for me, wouldn't you?"

She is looking up at him again, her head still on his chest. He meets her eyes, soft and accepting and full of innocent curiosity and he almost melts.

"You would be my father. You would be my daddy and you wouldn't even have to look for Jennifer. You'd have me to love and spoil and fuck up beyond repair."

The softness disappears before Red's eyes, replaced by a coldness he cannot understand.

She is taunting him. She is taunting him and he doesn't know why. What has he done to deserve this?

Her hips grind into his and suddenly he understands.

His own body has given him away.

"But that's not what you want, is it?" Lizzie pulls away from his chest, smirking as the blush spreads down his neck to parts of him well hidden by well-tailored clothing. "You would do it…you would suffer through it to make me happy but it would kill you, wouldn't it?"

He feels sick. This is not what he followed her home for.

He doesn't remember what he followed her home for.

"What? Don't have anything to say? You followed me all the way home to get me to talk to you and now you choose to stay silent?"

It isn't a choice. He looks past her…through her… unable to process the venom in her eyes.

"Fine." Lizzie pushes on the lapels of his coat and proceeds to slide it slowly down his arms. "If you don't want to talk, we don't have to talk." The coat is quickly tossed aside…Lizzie's childish way of trying to get a rise out of him.

It doesn't work.

Fingers work the buttons of Red's shirt and he is a stone.

"A small part of me has always wondered," Lizzie murmurs as she tugs the shirttail out of his trousers, "if this was why you insist on keeping me close…if it was something sexual. I wondered if you were attracted to me." Her hand grips his belt and toys with the buckle. "Guess I'm about to find out."

He is backed against the wall in an instant, his palms held flat against the expensive stone in her grip. She squeezes slightly, her unspoken command clear.

Don't move.

She doesn't have to worry.

His palms are sweaty and his eyes are closed as her fingernails scrape down his abdomen and over his sides. If she is trying to make a point, she has succeeded. There is really no need for her to take it any further.

He cannot open his mouth to tell her, so she continues on.

Divesting him of his belt, Lizzie works frantically at the zipper, crying out in frustration as it gets stuck. Red is in no position to help her so she is on her own, yanking and grunting until she gets her way and the zipper loosens.

She grips him through his boxers and he whimpers. Her fingers are still for a moment, and he thinks she may be done with her little game, but his hips shift instinctively and she moves, stroking over the material.

Red has lost.

There is no pretending he doesn't want her.

Lizzie coos under her breath as he jumps in her hand, pressing a mocking kiss to his Adam's apple. He hasn't realized until now that his head is thrown back against the wall, straining to keep control. The material of his boxers shifts and she works her hand into the flap, taking him fully in hand. Her skin is cool where his is hot and tight and he finally allows himself to moan.

And he doesn't stop moaning.

Any misconception that she is going to take this slow is quickly squashed as she strokes firmly up and down his shaft, spreading his own weeping essence everywhere she can reach to help ease the almost unbearable friction.

It is an almost painful experience.

This is not how he had wanted this to work out.

He hates himself for loving it.

Lizzie doubles her efforts and he falls against her shoulder, forgetting that this isn't something he's supposed to encourage.

It was foolish to think it wouldn't come to this…him backed against the wall, trembling as she strokes him to a staggering completion…not wanting it to happen quite this way…feeling the great heaviness of the lack of intimacy in such an intimate act; but he gives her anything she wants without complaint or reproach, going to far as to hide the tears as she simply zips him back up and walks away.

He slides heavily down to the floor and sits for hours, hoping she will show mercy and open her door.

She doesn't.


	6. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: First kiss

It started with a hug.

Red loved their hugs, those unexpected joys that came to him when he most needed them. He meant them as a comfort for her, but he suspected that they were more comforting to him. They were few and far between, so when presented with the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, he took full advantage of the situation… kissing her head… smelling her hair… holding her as close as he possibly could until he could feel her start to back away.

It was as torturous as it was soothing.

This particular embrace was no less wonderful and no less painful than all the others, but it was different. He had pulled her to him, his Lizzie, without thinking, without the usual worry that his caress would be unwelcome. There were very few times when he knew without a doubt that she needed him, and this was one of those times. Her father was gone. Tom was gone. Now, at the worst possible moment, her partner was gone too.

"I don't understand."

Lizzie didn't have to tell him what she didn't understand. Red didn't understand it either, how people could be so present in your life and in the blink of an eye be gone from it forever. It made no sense, and in a lot of ways it was unfair, but it was life and death was very much a part of it. He had long ago learned to accept it and deal with it, and now it was time to help Lizzie learn. The slight nuzzling into his shoulder prompted him to hold her tighter, though he reluctantly pulled back when she made a muffled noise into his shirt.

"Come again?"

"It doesn't seem right." Lizzie refused to meet his gaze, casting her eyes downwards at the stain she had left on his favorite shirt. Mascara and tears were a bitch to get out of pure cotton.

Running his hands up and down her arms in what he could only hope was a soothing fashion, Red tried to pull something resembling an explanation out of her. "What doesn't seem right?"

Tears ran down her cheeks and she still refused to meet his eyes. "He stepped in front of a bullet for me. For me! Ressler wasn't even supposed to be there! It wasn't FBI sanctioned. I put him in danger and he took a bullet for me! Why?" Her face was in his chest again, and her arms tightened almost painfully around him.

It was unbearable.

Slowly, gently, Red pushed against her again, steadying her with a firm hand on her arm and caressing her tearstained face with the other. She finally met his gaze, and there was something new in her eyes. Expectation. She expected him to make things better. She expected him to fix it. They were finally at a point where she trusted that he would take care of things. He truly hated to disappoint her, but he couldn't fix this. Nothing would bring back the dead.

But he could try to ease the guilt.

Gripping her beautiful face between his hands, he looked her straight in the eye and told her the only thing that could possibly make her feel any better…the truth.

"He did it…because you are worth it."

Lizzie quivered, trying desperately to shake her head no, but he held her still.

"You are worth it. You are worth living for and you're damn sure worth dying for. I know that. Maybe Donald knew that too."

The corners of Lizzie's mouth turned up unexpectedly, and Red dropped his hands to her shoulders, caressing her neck lightly with his fingers. Her pulse was strong and steady.

As it should be.

"Wow," Lizzie sighed, almost under her breath.

Red's brow furrowed. "Wow what?"

"You're willing to give Ressler credit for something. It must be true."

Wow indeed.

"I give Donald Ressler all the credit in the world…and my eternal gratitude." And it was true. If Red were the type to light candles and sing hymns he would do one for Ressler. He deserved that and more.

Looking down at the woman in his arms, Red was surprised to see her gazing back up at him, tears no longer swimming in her gorgeous blue eyes. Her teeth worried at her bottom lip… a nervous habit… and Red frowned. There was no reason for her to be nervous with him. She should have felt safe and secure in his arms and obviously he wasn't doing his job. Closing his eyes, he leaned in rest his forehead on hers, something he had always found oddly comforting, and was surprised when he made contact with something else.

Her lips.

She was kissing him.

It was chaste, really, her lips covering his for a fraction of a heartbeat before she seemingly lost her nerve and brought them down to his throat instead.

"Lizzie…" Red hissed, trying to regain control of the situation while Lizzie's tongue made contact with his skin. His fingers tightened on her shoulders and she responded in kind, sinking her teeth playfully into his flesh.

There were so many things he needed to say.

"You don't want this."

"You don't want me."

"You're sad and confused and I can't take advantage of that…"

He said nothing.

He moved instead.

His hands left the safety of her shoulders and traveled into uncharted territory. Her back… her waist… her hips… The swell of her ass called to him, but he exerted the only little bit of self control he had left and gripped her hips tighter instead.

"Come here."

It was almost a request, but Red took every word out of Lizzie's mouth as a command and he immediately obeyed, tilting his head down to meet her lips once more. This time their kiss was not chaste, nor was it brief. Her tongue slid between his lips slowly but without preamble, searching for an intimacy he was all too willing to provide. He silently praised her languid approach; it gave him time to explore and enjoy her bold exploration of his body. Apparently Lizzie had no qualms about where her hands should and should not wander, and Red chuckled warmly against her mouth as she made a grab for his ass.

Poor Ressler was all but forgotten.

Red would light a candle for him in the morning.

It was the least he could do, really.


	7. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Return
> 
> Original sentence: She brought him down on top of her on the staircase of the home she shared with her husband, hands fumbling for clothes...skin...whatever they could reach as she prayed that Tom wouldn't return home early...knowing without a doubt that he would.

Liz knew she was a coward.

Liz knew it, Red knew it, and Tom would know it too.

The charade had to end. She could no longer live with her husband, lying in bed night after night imagining all the possible ways he could kill her.

She often wondered if he was doing the same thing.

He kissed her goodbye that day, promising a talk and some Chinese food when he got home, and she voided her mind and kissed him back.

It had to be the last time.

She never left for work that day, opting to spend the day in solitude, her cell phone playing between her fingers.

Nick's Pizza was ever so tempting.

He could end all of this, one way or the other.

Dusk settled over the house without her pressing the button.

She didn't have to.

He was on her doorstep without having to be summoned, exuding subtle concern and mild annoyance at her absence.

Liz looked at the biggest problem in her life, and for the first time, saw only solutions.

If he was surprised when she pulled him to her, he didn't show it. It felt natural, his hand on her breast and her back against the wall, pushing and pulling in no discernable rhythm. It felt like they could have been doing this all along.

Maybe one day they could do it without the cloud of impending drama hanging over their heads.

She was bolder with Red than she was with Tom. Maybe it was the possessive way he kneaded his fingers into her hips; or maybe it was the way he sucked on her skin until it bruised... or maybe she just needed an outlet for the rage that had taken over her soul and wouldn't let go.

It was probably the rage.

Her teeth dragged across his skin, lightly at first, then harder when she realized that he was responding.

He liked it.

She drew blood.

The last ray of light danced through the window for a long, dazzling moment.

It was time.

She brought him down on top of her on the staircase of the home she shared with her husband, hands fumbling for clothes...skin...whatever they could reach as she prayed that Tom wouldn't return home early...knowing without a doubt that he would.

The sound of a car pulling into the drive played throughout the otherwise silent house. She expected everything to stop.

Nothing stopped.

Her panties slid down her hips and were promptly stolen, shoved into Red's back pocket. She couldn't cover up now if she tried.

Footsteps fell on gravel and he moved faster, pulling her legs around his waist and entering her in one hard thrust, scraping her back against the rough wood of the stairs.

There was nothing gentle about this.

It was exactly what she wanted.

She met him thrust for thrust, using their awkward position to her advantage, urging him not to let up.

He didn't.

He brought her legs around his neck and she cried out at the new angle, prompting the footsteps to fall faster.

The faster the footsteps, the faster the thrusts.

Keys fell from shaking hands onto the ground before finally finding purchase in the lock.

She was almost there.

Hands gripped her waist so hard that it hurt, and with one final thrust they were both over the edge, screaming for each other in triumph.

The door opened slowly.

"Liz?"


	8. Tabella's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner dates gone wrong...

Tabella's was the perfect little Italian restaurant for a romantic first date. Candles adorned every table, setting the entire restaurant aglow and creating an ambiance that inspired thoughts of kissing and canoodling in every person who walked through the door. Every person except for Liz, that is.

"This is creepy." Liz glared across the table at Red, who had the good sense to look apologetic.

"I'm sorry, but I started something on a whim and now I have to follow through," he said, twisting a particularly long piece of spaghetti around and around his fork. "And this way he won't be able to lie when we ask him how it went. I have the distinct feeling that more than a few of his dates never made it back from the ladies' room."

Liz rolled her eyes, loyalty to her friend overriding the niggling feeling that what Red said was true. "He's not that bad. In fact, he's really cute...in a friendly puppy dog sort of way."

"And women that want a friendly puppy dog following them around go to the pound and get just that." Red leaned slightly to the left, eyeing the center table where Aram sat with his date, oblivious to their audience. "He's tanking."

Liz turned her head discreetly to see what Reddington was seeing. "He's doing fine! Look at her! She's giggling! And you've heard the jokes he tells. She must really be into him."

And Aram really seemed to be into her. The stunning brunette tossed her hair and Aram smiled a mile wide. He could really have downplayed the eagerness, but Liz was not going to point that out, not with Red dooming their date to failure before dessert had even been served.

"Or Vanessa is just a spectacular actress." Liz shot a look in Red's direction, but he ignored her and sipped his wine, squinting his eyes in Aram's direction. "How many times can one man straighten his tie?"

"As many times as he likes." Liz resisted the urge to turn and look again. The couple deserved a little bit of privacy, at least. "And if you think he's doing it all wrong, why don't you show him how it's done?"

Red's eyebrows shot up in interest. "Lessons? In picking up women?"

"No, he's already got the woman."

"No, I got him the woman. Next time I'll let him get the woman himself."

"How kind of you," Liz scoffed, busying herself with her lasagna to stop herself from spying on Aram. She would not stoop to the level of creepiness Red seemed so fond of exuding.

"I thought it was rather generous." Red couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Aram's table, distaste written across his features. "But in all seriousness, I really think I should drag him to the men's room by that stupid tie and give him a few pointers."

"Don't you dare!"

"You know I dare. At the rate he's going he won't make it to first base tonight."

Aram would have been mortified if he could hear the conversation. As it was, Liz was mortified for him. "It's the first date! How far can you possibly expect to get on the first date?" Red eyed her breasts pointedly and Liz blushed. "Well some men are gentlemen and don't need to get handsy on the first date. And his tie is not stupid. It matches his suit perfectly."

Red's fingers automatically reached up to stroke his own tie, and Liz bit her tongue. If he was fishing for compliments, tonight was not the night.

"Let me ask you something, Lizzie. If Aram is such a perfectly dressed, charming gentleman, then why aren't you dating him?" Liz laughed slightly, but her smile faded when Red didn't laugh with her. He was serious.

"Oh, come on! You know Aram and I would never work. He's too eager to please and right now I'm not too eager to please anyone." Lucky for her, Red seemed to accept this answer and instead of questioning her further, turned his attention towards flagging a waiter for dessert, ordering for the both of them as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She would have been offended, but tiramisu squashed any argument she could have made in defense of feminism. "Besides, I'm off of dating. No more dating."

"Really?" Red didn't look convinced. "So, if a dashing man in a three-piece suit with a startlingly fashionable sense of style asked you to, say, a charming little Italian restaurant to wine and dine you for a couple of hours, you'd say no?"

The return of the waiter with the tiramisu only fractionally softened Liz's ire. "You asked me to dinner to "discuss an interesting case"! Then I get here and the interesting case is _Aram._ I'm not exactly feeling charmed at the moment."

"But you are being wined and dined," Red said smugly, dipping victoriously into his tiramisu. "And Aram on a date is the most interesting thing I've seen in a month. The man let her order her own dessert. Who does that?"

"Considerate men who think that maybe not everyone likes tiramisu," Liz shot back as she took another bite of hers.

Red grinned. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Liz couldn't help but grin back, and for a moment she actually considered a next time.

"Shit. They're leaving."

And then the moment was gone.

Red frowned as Aram and his date left the restaurant. "I need to get the check."

"Okay, you are taking this "following through" thing way too seriously, Reddington," Liz said, watching in amazement as Red scrambled to dig out cash from his breast pocket. "Besides, we don't even know where they're going."

"Well I would have known, had I not been distracted by _someone_ and her tiramisu!"

Liz let out a little squeal as her jacket was thrown over her shoulders and she was hauled out of her seat by her arm, attracting the attention of every patron in the restaurant.

"Excuse me, Miss," the little waiter interrupted as they made their way through the restaurant, "do you need help?"

Red glared and Liz stifled a giggle. The boy was lucky Red had already left his tip.

"No, thank you. We're just playing a game." Liz smiled as Red's hand left her arm and traveled all the way down to grasp her fingers. "And he's losing." He tugged sharply on her hand and practically ran her out of the restaurant and onto the street, where Aram's car was nowhere to be found. "They're gone."

"Yes, I can see that, Lizzie," Red snapped.

"You know, I don't understand why you care so much about what happens on this date. Normal people set up a blind date for their friends and just hope for the best, but no...not you. You have to escort them personally."

"I'm just concerned. Aram is a good guy and I wasn't really thinking when I set him up with Vanessa. Not with my head, anyway." Red flushed slightly and Liz extracted her hand from his grasp.

"Let me guess...Vanessa is the wife and or ex-wife of a good buddy of yours who just so happens to be the leader of an international drug cartel with a special love for opera and carving knives."

"Way off base. Vanessa's never been married."

"Then her father's the leader of an international dru..."

"Wrong!" Red waved a little at the black Sedan at the end of the street and the lights came on as the car started. "And just who do you think I hang out with?"

"No one that I want to be around." Liz crossed her arms and waited for Dembe to park the car in front of them. "Have you slept with her?"

Red licked his lips. "That's not any of your business."

"I think it is."

"Ex lovers are third date conversations, and we are only on the first date."

"We're not on a date, and if we were, you'd be blowing it."

"Maybe. But then I'd make up for it with charm and grace and not a small amount of chivalry." Red took her hand as he escorted her into the backseat of the car.

"Chivalry only goes so far. But honesty..."

"Fine." Red gestured at Dembe and he drove, though no one had specified a destination. "Vanessa just happens to be bit more...advanced than I think Aram is, and by the time I realized that this might be a bad idea, he was already on his way to pick her up."

"I don't understand. You wanted the date to go well. You were rooting for Aram to get the girl." Liz was utterly confused, much like every other time she and Red engaged in a conversation that lasted more than five minutes.

"I was rooting for first base. A little above-the-blouse action. Vanessa will take him around to fifth base and back again."

Liz's jaw dropped. "There's a fifth base?"

Red patted her hand, the tips of his fingers dangerously close to the inside of her thigh. "Again, third date conversation."

"Red?" Liz cleared her throat, a horrible realization dawning on her. "Exactly how do you know Vanessa?"

Red pursed his lips and turned from her to face the window. "She's a business associate."

"What kind of business?"

There was a long pause and then a sigh. "Sales."

"Red?"

"Yes?" Red turned back towards her, cool and calm and obviously expecting her next question.

Liz gritted her teeth. "Is my friend out with a prostitute?"

Red smiled. "All the way to fifth base."

"Reddington, I'm going to kick your ass!" Liz groaned.

Red turned back towards the window. "I can't wait for the third date..."


	9. Vigil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie discovers something in Red's file.

That damn file was beginning to be a thorn in Elizabeth Keen's side. She had read it cover to cover, knowing that it just held a fraction of the life of the man who now dominated hers.

She knew the story all too well. Raymond Reddington started out as your run of the mill good guy, working his way up the ranks in the U.S. Navy, raising his family in a modest home in Baltimore. It had all turned to shit, though, and as much as Elizabeth studied that file, she still could not say why.

It made no sense. Nothing in Red's life made sense. He was dangerous, for sure, but he was also...protective. Nothing would ever happen to her as long as Red was around. Didn't it stand to reason that he would be the same way toward his family? Wouldn't he have moved mountains to keep them safe? There was a look that came over his face whenever she felt brave enough to mention his wife and daughter, full of regret and sorrow. It never failed to cause a swell of guilt to rise in Elizabeth, and she found herself referencing them less and less.

As small as the file was, and as little as it told her, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel that the truth was right at her fingertips. If she could only learn to read between the lines...

"There's nothing in that file that's going to help you, Lizzie."

Elizabeth jerked her head up to see Red standing at the doorway of her office, gazing at the scene before him in amusement. His coat and hat were hung up on the hook on the wall. How long had he been in her office?

Leaving the file open on her desk, Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and did her best to look non-plussed. It wasn't an easy task. "And what do you think I need help with?"

Red grinned. "Me, of course."

"Of course," Elizabeth sighed. "Everything just has to be about you."

She had no idea why it bothered her so bad. Red's selfishness should be something she was used to. There was nothing he could say that would convince her that his motives for keeping her safe weren't at least ninety percent for his own benefit.

"Why are you here?" Elizabeth questioned, only half interested in the answer.

As if he were about to reveal the most important information anyone could ever hear, Red turned and closed the door, making sure that the only noise was a quiet click. Elizabeth leaned in, immediately drawn in by his secretive behavior, but was taken aback when she registered the furrow of his brow and the almost imperceptible worry of his cheek.

He didn't have an answer.

"I'm here to bring you a case."

Liar.

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and nodded her head, gesturing for him to continue. He stared at her for a moment, obviously thrown by something.

Oh. Yeah. It was her turn.

"So..." Elizabeth trailed off, giving him time to think something up...giving him time to make up a lie especially for her. "What is it?"

Red shrugged, his distracted expression replaced with his usual passive expression. "It's nothing that can't wait. You're obviously very busy doing something very pointless. I can come back tomorrow."

How infuriating was this man? Elizabeth rose from her chair and tried to push past Red to get out of the door, but when he refused to move she resigned herself to staring out of the window instead. Anything to keep from having to look at him.

From where Elizabeth stood, it looked like a lazy day at the office. Paperwork overflowed the desks and people were in no hurry to really get started on it. She stood there for the longest time, watching her coworkers before it dawned on her that it was all wrong. No one was looking back at her. Raymond Reddington had been in her office for over ten minutes and nobody was interested. A couple of months ago all eyes would be glued to her door and FBI agents would be running around the huge space, preparing as much as they could for whatever crumbs he would toss their way. Now they barely acknowledged him.

When had they let their guard down? When had it become such an insignificant thing for this dangerous criminal to just walk into an FBI blacksite whenever it suited him? How had they not noticed him manipulating them into accepting his presence?

How had SHE not noticed? And how had she not noticed him move to her desk to dig through his file?

"I thought you said there was nothing good in that file," Elizabeth said calmly, leaning back against the window pane.

Red didn't bother to look up from the file, not caring that Elizabeth had caught him red-handed. "There isn't." Elizabeth tried not to lose her cool as he shifted documents around, laying photos out and then shifting their patterns as if it meant something. When he finally looked up at her, he gave her a small smile. "I guess I just wanted to know what I looked like through your eyes, given that everything you think you know about me comes from this file."

"And how are you looking so far?"

"So far? Like a complete bastard, and I hold out no hope for it getting any better, so I'm going to stop reading now." Red pushed the documents and photos together in a pile and shoved them back into the file.

Elizabeth watched him intently as he moved from around her desk and gathered his things in his hands. Something was bothering him. Something had been bothering him from the moment he walked into her office. Elizabeth's ego wasn't so big that she could assume that she knew everything about Red, but they had spent enough time together for her to know when things weren't right.

Pausing by the door, Red reached out to push Elizabeth's hair behind her ear, a movement with so much meaning behind it that it left her speechless. What was he trying to tell her?

"You seem stressed, Lizzie. Maybe you should go home and get some rest. You're going to need it for our next little adventure," Red said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. Elizabeth nodded once, and then he was gone.

Elizabeth watched from the window as he made his way out of the blacksite, then turned to survey the room he had just exited.

What had just happened?

TBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBLTBL

Elizabeth walked into her home just a few hours after she had left it. Red was right; she was stressed and she needed rest.

Knowing Tom wasn't due home from school for several more hours, Elizabeth didn't bother calling for him, and didn't bother walking up the stairs to her bed. The couch would do just fine. She kicked off her shoes and collapsed into its warmth, pulling the decorative pillow under her cheek and closing her eyes.

Sleep wouldn't come.

Tossing and turning on the small couch was doing nothing but hurting her back, so Elizabeth finally gave up and decided to do something productive. Like lunch. Food was the answer to everything.

Elizabeth trekked to the kitchen and made a grilled cheese sandwich, indulging since Tom wasn't there to scold her about her bad eating habits. Gluten-free pancakes? Really?

As she was about to make her way back to the couch and finish her lunch, the file that she had carelessly tossed onto the island counter caught her eye. She was tempted to have just one more look at it...just for her own peace of mind. Maybe there was something she had missed...

No.

She was not going to drive herself crazy over something so useless. Red had told her himself that there was nothing in that file that could help her.

Elizabeth walked out of the kitchen and did an immediate 180, grabbing the file off the counter.

Red was a criminal. What did he know about the truth?

The coffee table was much too small to give Elizabeth the perspective she needed, so she pushed it out of the way and set to spreading the file out on the floor. It looked like a mess of papers, but there was a pattern if closely examined...a tentative timeline of events that was so full of holes that there was barely a line to be seen. Once the file was devoid of documents, Elizabeth started on the pictures. They usually occupied a space of their own, but today Elizabeth tried something different. Instead of setting them to the side, she matched the photos to the documents according to the timeline.

The older ones were easy. Pictures of Red in his uniforms were placed with the appropriate military records, and once again Elizabeth was impressed with how fast he had moved up the ranks. For someone so young to advance so quickly was almost unheard of. It seemed strange to her that Red was ever that young, and that he was ever on her side of the ethical divide. Fantasies of what he must have been like rose, unbidden, into her mind, and she quickly shrugged them off. What he used to be didn't matter. What he had turned into mattered oh so much.

Other pictures were harder to place. Red's looks changed often, and there were no years attached to the photos to give Elizabeth any hints. She did the best she could with those and moved on. The only photos left were the ones that bothered her the most...the ones that made absolutely no sense. Elizabeth picked up a picture of a car covered in snow, out of gas and abandoned by its owner on the side of the road. Every person living on that street during that time had been questioned endlessly. No one had seen or heard anything suspicious, and there were no reports of a man banging on doors and asking for help, or even for a phone to call his wife and daughter.

The driver had simply disappeared.

All signs pointed towards a kidnapping. It was not entirely out of the realm of possibility. After all, Red was sitting on boundless classified information, and there were plenty of people who would do almost anything to get to it. There were various other theories sprouted up in the weeks after he disappeared, but none that seemed as plausible. No one could fathom the idea that this brilliant naval officer with a beautiful family and a bright future would ever leave his life behind on purpose.

Elizabeth shuffled through the pictures until she found the one of his house, brightly lit from the inside, waiting to welcome its master home for the holidays. She tried to imagine what had been waiting for him inside. Christmas decorations would have littered the house, and presents would have been piled under the tree. It would smell like food...pumpkin pie and perhaps a turkey in the oven... And his family...

His family was waiting.

Who wouldn't want to get back to that?

Flipping once more through the rest of the pictures, Elizabeth searched for the one that gripped her the most...the one that kept her up nights. It was not in the pile. She flipped through them once more and her stomach lurched violently. It was definitely not there.

The tentative timeline that Elizabeth had created disappeared quickly as she swept papers aside and scooped papers up, hoping desperately that it might have gotten stuck to the back of another photo but knowing that it wasn't. Retracing her steps led her back to the kitchen and even to the small table by her front door, and eventually back to her car. A hurried search of her passenger seat revealed nothing, and Elizabeth began to truly panic. Evidence was missing. Evidence that was entrusted to her by Agent Cooper to use at her discretion had slipped right through her fingers.

She was so screwed.

Unless...

Elizabeth ran back up the front steps and into her house, grabbing her cell phone and dialing Nick's Pizza as fast as she could. The phone only rang once, as if Red were waiting on her call.

"Lizzie! How exciting... I never get a call from my partner when we're not working a case! What's the occasion?"

"You're a thief. THAT'S the occasion."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment Elizabeth thought he was going to protest.

"Your point?"

Why she had ever thought he would show an ounce of contrition eluded her.

"My point is that I want you to give back what you took. I know it's a novel concept, doing the right thing, but try it this once. Just for me." Elizabeth braced herself for the backlash. Using sarcasm with Raymond Reddington was a good way to get hung up on.

"Fine. You can have it back. I was done with it anyway."

Well...this was new.

"If you're scre..."

"I'm not screwing with you, Lizzie. Unless you want me to."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and counted to ten. Red knew how to push every single one of her buttons. The key was not to react when he pushed them all at the same time.

"If you don't answer me I'm going to take that as a yes..."

Another deep breath.

"Well if you're not gonna play..."

No, she was not. One...two...three...

"If you want the picture you can come and get it."

There was a soft beep as Red hung up on her. Elizabeth looked at the phone in her hand and smiled, proud of herself for keeping her temper in check. It wasn't an easy thing to do.

Mentally grumbling over the fact that she had to leave her cozy house to go see Red in his current depressing abode, Elizabeth grabbed her keys and headed out the door. She was halfway down the steps when she noticed the black Mercedes blocking her car in. The bastard had probably been in her driveway the entire time they were on the phone. When she got a little closer to his car the back window rolled down.

"Get in, Lizzie. It's cold."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and climbed inside the car. Red was waiting for her in the back seat, holding the stolen picture between the tips of his fingers.

"I suppose you want this back," he said tiredly. "Can't imagine why. It's just an old picture." He made no move to give it back, and Elizabeth fought the urge to just reach over and take it from him.

"It's evidence, Red. Just because you are working with the FBI don't think that you can just walk in and take whatever. It doesn't work that way."

Red sighed heavily and waved the photo in front of her. "For goodness sakes, Lizzie, I told you you could have it back. What else do you want from me?" His voice sounded so weary that Elizabeth was taken aback. She made no move to take the photo.

"Why did you take it?"

Red pulled his arm back and dropped the photo in his lap, chuckling slightly. "Why does anybody do anything?"

Elizabeth made a high pitched noise in the back of her throat and banged her head gently against the back of the seat. She would honestly rather him lie than pointedly dodge the question.

"Just give me the damn picture and..."

"I didn't know they did this," Red cut her off, running his hand over the picture in his lap. His voice held a certain sorrow, and Elizabeth was instantly captivated. Her eyes followed his fingers as they traced over the hands...over the candles...over the flames... "They must have thought something terrible happened to me...that I had been tortured or murdered or perhaps something far worse."

Elizabeth frowned. She had always assumed that Red had kept up with them after he had disappeared the first time. He had kept up with her just fine...

"It was assumed that you had been kidnapped. At least until you showed yourself and the truth came out."

Red's laughter was cold and empty and frightening. Elizabeth found herself inching closer and closer to the door, her instinct to flee almost overwhelming.

"And what is the truth? Please, enlighten me, Lizzie." Red stared at her, through her. Elizabeth had seen that look before, though never directed at her. She was so close to the door...

"You disappeared because you wanted to disappear!"

Elizabeth snapped her mouth shut, wishing she had had the sense to do that before it completely took off with her. Red wasn't laughing now, in fact, he was scowling.

"Let me tell you this, Elizabeth," Red growled, his voice low and menacing. "No one in their right mind would choose this life. This life chooses you. I didn't ask to be separated from my wife and child. I would never willingly put them through this." The picture of the candlelight vigil held in his honor crinkled in his tight fist and Elizabeth cringed. "Now they're gone. By the time I was finally free to return to them they were the ones who had disappeared. It was really only then that I knew what they had gone through, and I hated myself for it. I hate myself for it."

It was the most honest thing he had ever said to her. There was such an expression of self loathing on his face that Elizabeth almost reached out to him.

Almost.

"They did this every year, you know," Elizabeth said, tentatively testing the waters of this conversation. "The whole town held a candlelight vigil on Christmas eve, every year until people realized that you were very much a free man. But even after the town stopped, your wife and daughter continued. They believed in you up until the very end."

Red smiled sadly. "What was the end?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I wish I knew."

"Me too."

Red turned away from her then, not wanting her to see his eyes shine with unshed tears. Too late. Elizabeth heard a slight rip as his fist closed even tighter over the picture. Leaning over, Elizabeth reached out and gently pried it from his grasp, slightly massaging his fingers, encouraging them to loosen up. When the picture was free she continued to work his fingers, rubbing them soothingly between her own. It wasn't holding his hand and it wasn't a hug, but it was something.

"I think you better go back inside. I told you you needed rest and I was serious," Red said softly, effectively ending the conversation. Elizabeth didn't know if she should be sad or relieved. She nodded and tried to pull her hand away, holding back a gasp when his fingers closed over hers.

"Every Christmas?"

Red's face held so much hope that Elizabeth would have lied if it wasn't the truth.

"Every Christmas. Goodnight Red."

Elizabeth took the ruined photo from Red's lap and exited the car. She watched him pull away from the curb, only heading inside when the car was out of sight.

Maybe she was wrong.

Maybe what he used to be mattered more than she thought.


	10. Pulse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red dabbles in something... medicinal.

"Are you ever going to let me drive?"

Raymond Reddington sat in the back of his expensive black Mercedes while his devoted friend, Dembe, sat behind the wheel.

"That would be against my better judgement, so no."

Red smiled in spite of himself. He enjoyed having Dembe around- and most times it was extremely necessary to have Dembe around- but he missed doing things for himself, little things like driving his own car. Not that he wanted to drive down this particular road that wasn't really even a road. It was more of a path through the woods, barely able to fit a car. Perfect for keeping people away from his favorite safe house.

"Tell me, Raymond...what happened to our 'no sleeping in the same place for more than two nights' rule?"

"Haven't you ever heard of an exception? There's one to every rule, Dembe."

And this place was certainly an exception. It was smaller than he usually liked, but the location was fantastic. The house was settled in the middle of a large field, surrounded by trees. Ideal for someone who wasn't looking for visitors. And Red was not looking for visitors tonight.

The pair pulled up at the house and Red led the way inside, noticing that Dembe was hanging back.

"Dembe? Is there something wrong?"

Dembe slung his bag over his shoulder and finally made his way into the house.

"I could ask you the same question, my friend. Why are we still here?"

Red gestured toward the outside.

"Privacy. A person could go outside and scream to the heavens and there's nobody out there to hear him but God."

Dembe looked concerned. He should have been.

"Are you planning on doing a lot of screaming tonight, Raymond?"

Red grinned.

"Ask me again in an hour."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small plastic baggie filled with chunks of something that might have been green once, but was now a muddy brown color.

"Don't give me that look, Dembe."

Red didn't have to look at his friend to know that he disapproved. Dembe disapproved of a lot of Red's extra-curricular activities. No matter. It wasn't like Red was going to force him to participate, or even to watch. But if Dembe insisted on sticking around for the show...

"Tuba City, Raymond. Did you not learn that nothing good comes in little plastic bags?"

Red walked the few steps into the small kitchen and put on a kettle of water to boil.

"Quite the opposite, actually. I've found that some very interesting things come in little plastic bags."

Dembe snatched the bag from Red's hand and examined the contents.

"Mushrooms?"

Red put his hand over his heart in mock offense.

"Certainly not! I'll have you know that this is the finest quality peyote, given to me by a trusted practitioner of medicine."

Dembe smirked, tossing the bag onto the counter.

"You got it from a witch doctor, didn't you?"

"I don't have to answer that."

Red tossed a few buttons of the dried out cactus into the bottom of a tea cup and poured the hot water over it.

"Raymond, shouldn't you start out a bit easier? Perhaps one button could accomplish whatever you are trying to do here."

Red chuckled.

"Don't be so dramatic! I do believe you could use a cup of this yourself."

"No, thank you. I enjoy my sanity."

"Oh well...more for me."

Red brought the cup up to his nose and inhaled.

"Heaven."

He tipped the cup to his lips and took a long sip.

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The sky was red.

Or was it black?

Was it even the sky?

Yes. It was definitely the sky. The moon was up there, big and full and hanging low. Too low. Red could see the mountains and valleys of the moon, and the rivers too. He never knew that the moon had rivers and yet, there they were, flowing backwards and upside down.

Upside down.

The moon was upside down.

Lucky for Red, it was still attached to the sky. Attatched by chains. Chains that were slowly weakening. Maybe the chains would hold up until he could get up off of the ground and into the house. He cocked his head from side to side. The house was gone. Oh well. He would be the only man ever to die by being crushed by the moon. What a way to go.

But wait...

He wasn't ready to die.

There were things...so many things...

Maybe if he didn't focus on the moon it would forget that it was supposed to crush him to death.

He would focus on the stars. They were so beautiful. Little orbs of light. Hanging on by chains. Just like the moon. Only the chains weren't holding the stars back. The stars were moving. Swinging. Twirling...fast. Too fast. The stars weren't beautiful anymore. They were dangerous. And loud. They crashed into each other like waves in a monsoon.

It was too much.

Red was afraid. Red wasn't supposed to be afraid. He was supposed to be fearless. Fearless for HER. But who could fight the moon and stars?

He squeezed his eyes shut and the noise grew louder and louder until finally...it stopped. All was silent. And then he heard her. Heard her voice.

"Red? Red. Open your eyes, Red."

The voice commanded, and he obeyed. The sky still hung above him, but the moon and stars were back in their places. He wasn't going to die.

"Aren't you going to look at me?"

Red turned his head in the direction of the voice. It was the best thing he had done all night. His Lizzie lay beside him on the grass, her head propped up on one arm.

"That's better, isn't it?"

Red nodded. Of course it was better. She was here. Lizzie flopped flat on her back and stared up at the sky.

"Is this what you do at night? Lay out and watch the stars? Because I know you don't sleep."

"Hardly. I lie in the bed and watch the ceiling."

Lizzie turned her head towards him.

"Sad. You should start doing this, instead."

"Perhaps."

There was something surreal about this. There was something surreal about her. He studied her for a moment as she studied him.

"Lizzie?"

"Yes, Red?"

" You don't always dress like this, do you?"

There was a pause as Lizzie examined herself. Blue jeans, a loose white peasant top, and bare feet. This was new. It had to be. Red tried to rummage through his memories, but they were all cloudy, and didn't feature Lizzie's wardrobe at all. Just her.

"I think you're right. These clothes aren't mine. Huh...what do you know?"

She giggled and propped herself back up on her arm.

"What does it matter? Do you really care what I wear?"

Red smiled softly.

"No. I guess I don't."

Lizzie reached out and put her hand on top of his on his chest.

"What's wrong?"

Red shook his head.

"It's nothing."

Lizzie's hand grew tighter on his.

"It's not nothing. I know you better than you think I do."

"Is that so?"

Lizzie smiled sweetly, and Red wished desperately for a camera.

"That's so. And you can tell me anything. Always."

The way she looked at him... so sweet and so trusting. He had dreamed of her looking at him this way. Red looked away from her and back up at he night sky. The moon and the beautiful stars that had frightened him so were gone. There was only blackness. The blackness was much more frightening. Red closed his eyes again. If he couldn't see it, it couldn't hurt him.

"There are so many things I need to tell you, Lizzie. But if I tell you, you'll hate me, and I'm not ready for you to hate me yet."

Lizzie's soft laughter made his chest tighten.

"I could never hate you. I may get angry with you, but I'll always forgive you. I kinda love you, you know."

Red's eyes flew open. He turned towards her sharply, but she was gone. How could she say something like that then just leave him?

"Red!"

She didn't leave. But where was she? He tried to sit up, but to no avail. There was an elephant sitting on his chest. An invisible elephant, but an elephant just the same.

"Red!"

He lifted his head off the ground and looked straight ahead. There she was. But why was she so far away? She sounded so close... "Red."

"Lizzie."

Was that his voice? It sounded so weak. Raymond Reddington was NOT weak. When he spoke again, he tried to sound stronger.

"Lizzie?"

That was better.

"Red! Get up! Now!"

Ha. She was so funny sometimes. How could he possibly get up when there was an elephant sitting on his chest?

He no longer had the strength to hold his head up, and the night sky had betrayed him twice already, so he focused on the ground he was sprawled on. There was grass...and...not much else. He studied the grass intently until it gave him a headache. He closed his eyes, praying for relief.

Thump. Thump.

What was that?

Thump. Thump. It was a thrumming, pulsating sound. He opened his eyes and tried to locate the source.

Nothing.

He was all alone again. Naturally. His eyes fluttered shut again.

Thump. Thump.

Red laughed merrily into the night. His heart. He was hearing his own heartbeat. He still had a heart. Good to know.

"Red! You've got to get up!"

What did she want from him? If he COULD get up, he WOULD get up. End of story.

"Lay down here with me, Lizzie."

He was always the one with the solutions. Couldn't she see that? He could solve all of her problems if she would just let him. He could solve the problems because he caused most of the problems. It only made sense...

"Get up and get into the..."

She faded out slowly. Hallelujah. Red loved Lizzie's voice, but she was starting to get bossy.

Red was the boss.

Wasn't he?

There were hands on him now. Pulling and tugging and trying to get him to his feet. Good luck. He was glued to the ground.

"You have to help me, Red."

He wanted to help her so badly. It wasn't his fault that she wouldn't let him.

She managed to haul him to his feet-an impressive feat for such a little girl- and he managed to fall face first back into the grass. And there was his heartbeat again. No... not his heartbeat. It was the ground beneath him. The ground had a pulse. The earth had a pulse.

"Dembe!"

She could be quieter if she wanted to.

"Dembe! I know you're pissed, but I can't do this by myself. He's too heavy."

Dembe? When did Dembe get here? Strong hands gripped him under his arms, but he refused to budge. He was quite comfortable on the ground, listening to its heartbeat. It was nice to lie next to something with a heartbeat.

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Red awoke to the smell of something burning. Something strong.

"All of it, Dembe. If he has any more of this stashed anywhere else you'd better tell me now."

"Yes ma'am. I think this is all of it."

What was Lizzie doing there? And what was he doing asleep while Lizzie was there? He opened his eyes and groaned. Misery. What had he done to deserve this?

"Oh look...someone's finally awake. What's the matter, Red? Do you have a headache?"

Lizzie s voice was syrupy sweet and Red knew he was screwed.

"Let me get you an aspirin and some water. You must be parched."

Red cringed from his prone position on the couch when the kitchen cabinets were deliberately slammed against each other. Punishment. This was punishment for something. He caught sight of Dembe standing casually by the fireplace and glared evenly at him.

"WHY did you let her in?"

Red's voice croaked as if he hadn't used it in weeks. Dembe smirked and crossed his arms in front of him.

" Agent Keen didn't need to be let in. You were outside, sprawled out on your ass...talking to yourself. I do recall suggesting that you take it easy on the peyote. You never listen."

The tea. He had imbibed more than one cup of that horrid tea. It was a wonder he was even coherent. And Lizzie had shown up...

"How much did she see?"

Red's voice was barely above a whisper. Dembe raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"That much, eh?"

Smugness radiated from Dembe's face as he nodded.

"Shit...this is mortifying."

Red rubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to wake up from the nightmare that was his life at the moment.

"I warned you. You'll get no sympathy from me."

"And you won't get any from me, either."

Lizzie stepped in from the kitchen and slammed the aspirin and water down on the coffee table. Red was taken aback by her appearance. She was wearing the same black slacks and dark red sweater that she had worn the day before at the black site, only now they were covered in dirt and grass. Her hair was falling from its low bun and there was a long gash on her forearm.

"What in the hell happened to you?"

Lizzie laughed harshly.

"What happened to ME? Tom showed up at my house tonight, that's what happened. He wanted to kill me. He tried to kill me. I managed to fight him off but he gave me this."

She pointed at he gash on her arm. It looked deep, but hopefully not deep enough for stitches. Red was furious.

"How did he get away?"

Lizzie huffed.

"He ran. I disarmed him and he ran. I didn't have it in me to go after him."

Red was relieved. He didn't want her running after Tom. He was too dangerous for her to handle alone.

"And why didn't you go to the hospital? That cut needs to be looked at."

Lizzie flushed.

"I didn't want to go to the hospital. I wanted you. I tried to call but this place is so far out...it took forever to get a signal. I drove around for an hour calling and calling until Dembe finally picked up."

She grew silent, and Red could feel her nerves as if they were his own. They WERE his own.

"Lizzie..."

"Tom tried to kill me, Red. Tom tried to kill me and where were you? What the hell were you doing?"

Red sighed.

"Making a huge fucking mistake. Come here."

He opened his arms and Lizzie crawled into them, sobbing. What had he been thinking? If anything would have happened to her...

"You're okay. You're safe now. I've got you."

He held her until the sobbing ceased, murmuring comforting words into her hair and stroking her back. He didn't know what else to do, and he hoped it was enough.

"You know I'm very proud of you. It looks like you put up one hell of a fight."

Lizzie raised her head off his chest and looked at him, obviously confused.

"Don't you remember? Tom didn't do this. He cut me, yes, but that was all. You did the rest."

What?

"Excuse me?"

"Well someone had to get your dumb ass in out of the cold! And since Dembe was in no mood to do anything for you, I had to do it. And you don't look so hot yourself, by the way."

Red looked around for Dembe, who had slipped out during Lizzie's minor meltdown, then looked down at his clothes. She was right. He was down to his undershirt, trousers, and socks... all covered in dirt and grass stains. Fantastic. Those were his favorite socks.

"I am so sorry if I scared you, Lizzie. I'll never do that again. I promise."

Lizzie smiled and settled back down against his chest.

"I know you won't. I burned that nasty stuff. And the bag it came in."

Red laughed.

"You know I could have made a pretty penny off of that. Enough for dinner for two at a nice restaurant..."

"Shut up."

"Unless you don't want to have dinner with me..."

Red was stunned when Lizzie's lips brushed his own.

"I'd like to have dinner with you. I think I'd like that very much."

She buried her face in his neck before he could respond. He tightened one arm around her and reached into his trouser pocket with the other, pulling out a small plastic baggie. He chucked the bag across the room and into the fire. Lizzie started and looked in the direction of the fireplace.

"What was that?"

Red smiled innocently.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."


End file.
